


try as you might, you continue to be yourself

by buttercupful



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Chara (Undertale) Has Their Own Body, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Nonbinary Chara & Frisk (Undertale), Nonbinary Chara (Undertale), Not Beta Read, Post-Canon, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route - "I want to stay with you.", Selectively Mute Frisk (Undertale), Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 12:47:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29189547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buttercupful/pseuds/buttercupful
Summary: Chara is: volatile, angry, obnoxious, cursed...Evil. They say so themself, and who would know better than them?A loving boss monster such as Toriel would.
Relationships: Chara & Toriel (Undertale)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 15





	try as you might, you continue to be yourself

**Author's Note:**

> aaaa a lot of projecting here dont mind me!! also I think im slowly getting better at writing for longer but. barely.

It had not been long since Chara stormed out of the Dreemurr's household. Their fists and teeth clenching, trying to mask their queasiness with long confident strides. 

_Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, weak, weak, weak, WEAK._

They sniffle. 

_And let's not forget failure as well._

They harshly scrabble at their skull with dull fingernails and sit down in the garden behind the house with a soft _thump_. Their hair now significantly disheveled, they slump. Hands now in fists on their thighs, they breathe raggedly.

_Inhale. Exhale._

Frisk had tried to calm them before Chara finished stomping out the door, and they got shoved roughly to the floor as thanks. Chara only paused to stifle an anguished look before fleeing outside.

_It wasn’t even that big of a deal, they thought. What’s your problem?_

They were struggling with dinner again, which wasn’t all that unusual. More often than not when that time of day comes they feel nauseous and unwilling to stomach the meal. But Toriel was worried, not to mention insistent, that their child get some food in them.

_Their child. Yeah right. Who would want a miserable whelp like you in their house? She just feels guilty._

They shake the thought away. Chara wasn’t really allowed to use many sharp objects, specifically not when they are unsupervised, and that already made Chara feel… vulnerable. Antsy. Any sort of negative emotion. However, typically you need a fork and knife to eat some meals like this one. On top of struggling with food, most textures and consistencies unpleasant to them, Flowey had gotten on their nerves. While they were poking around at a full plate, he said something snotty to them. They don’t even remember what it was. It got to them and before they knew it they were shouting something back and raising their fork and knife threateningly at him, smiling wide and forcefully. 

He looked… Scared in that moment, face almost identical to his old form. Asriel. They try very hard to believe he deserved to feel that way. He shouldn’t have given them shit, not when he _knows_ nights are hard for them, unwanted feelings always welling up at that time of day. 

But they can’t help but feel absolutely terrible at the fact they made him, their _brother,_ make that expression.

_And not for the first time either._

Needless to say, after that they were swiftly unarmed, and before they knew it they were out of the dining room, in the main hallway. Toriel was saying something to them, but they didn’t process what. They could only feel themself get unspeakably angry. Unable to contain it, they bulldozed their way through the family members in the hall and towards the door. Frisk gets shoved, you know the story.

Now.

Now, they are contemplating the flowers in the garden. None are poisonous, of course. No way Toriel would let that stand after she was told everything. It must be punishment, they suppose, living on in this wretched world, with the family they failed, and with their wonderful little replacement. However, Chara knows they have thought of this all time and time again but they can’t stop themselves from feeling angry, from feeling like it isn’t fair. 

But it is fair, they know.

Because a cursed thing such as themself never deserved happiness, and they were a fool the second they let themself feel loved by the Dreemurrs. They were a fool the second they felt they could do good. They were a fool for failing to disappear correctly.

They could barely bear to be alive, at this moment. They were so frustrated and sad and miserable that all they could do was shake and scratch at their legs, clawing up a few colorful band-aids in the process. Their heavy breaths the only sound in the dim garden.

_Stop throwing such a pity party. Stop acting like a child. Control yourself, you pathetic creature. It has been barely any time at all since you left the house and you think they will just leave you alone? Poor, unstable Chara? No._

Of course, the thoughts were right. Chara wouldn’t be left alone for much longer. So haphazardly brush hair out of their face, wipe their nose with the baggy sleeve of their favorite sweater, and lean back against the wall of the house. They reach under their sweater for their locket and grip it tight, the golden finish of the locket long since worn away from this behavior. The backdoor to the house slowly opens, and two figures emerge from behind the door. Feelings bubble up again at the sight of them both.

Frisk pauses for a moment before padding up to Chara in their socks, not minding them getting dirty. Toriel shuts the door softly behind her but keeps her distance. Frisk holds a small cardboard box in their hands with the label “BAND-AIDS”. 

Frisk kneels in front of Chara, but the taller child refuses to look at Frisk’s face. They poke at Chara several times in an attempt to remedy this, before Frisk gets fed up and speaks.

“Chara.” Their voice is gravelly from disuse. It is all that is needed for Chara to look up however, as Frisk does not make use of their voice often. Frisk moves the box from their lap to Chara’s, pats the other’s hand with theirs, and stands back up. They open one red eye and peer down at Chara for a moment, before retreating. Rejoining Toriel, Frisk seems to be signing something briefly to her, before moving back inside on their own.

Chara gazes down at the container in their lap before growling and throwing it across the yard as far as they can. Admittedly it is not very far.

Toriel’s shadow looms over Chara, before she crouches down to Chara’s level.

Chara brings their knees to their chest and buries their face in their arms.

“Chara. You know that throwing that did not solve anything, yes?” Toriel speaks gently towards her child.

Chara growls.

_Way to be grateful._

“Did it at least make you feel better?” She continues.

Chara shakes their head, still buried in the sleeves of their sweater. Toriel rotates herself so she can lean against the house as well, parallel to Chara.

“I think that you should see your therapist more often, Chara. I know you do not think it is worth it, but it would mean much to me, my child.”

Chara bristles.

“I know you do not believe it yet, but you do deserve to feel better.”

Chara barks out a response, finally lifting their head. “I’d rather die!”

“I know, Chara. But the day you and your brother came back to us was the happiest day of my life. I am not going to mess this up again. I will see you happy, Chara Dreemurr, mark my words.” By the end her voice was shaking, and she was so genuine it _hurt,_ so Chara let their bangs fall into their eyes so they wouldn’t have to look at her while she was acting like this.

“...A rotten child like me can’t be worth it, Mom. I just can’t be. I killed your child. Your REAL child.” Chara chokes out.

“Oh Chara… We have gone through this before, have we not? You became my child as well the second you stepped into my home. You are well worth the trouble.” Toriel leans in purposefully, so Chara can anticipate her movement, before nuzzling the top of their head. Her long, floppy ears drape across them. “I love you, so, so, dearly, and I can’t wait for the day when you can feel it.”

Chara can’t deal with this, _won’t_ deal with this, so they stand up stiffly, smile as they always do, and go to retrieve the bandages. Toriel waits patiently for their return. Chara jerkily sticks out the hand holding the box until the boss monster takes it from them. Without speaking, she applies the band-aids to the scratches on their legs. The band-aids are made to look like a different color of crayon each.

When Toriel is finished, she leans back and levels Chara with a stare.

“Chara.” Toriel begins.

“...What.” 

“I would like for you to apologize to Frisk. For shoving them. You know they only wanted to help, yes? I will talk with Flowey about what he said, but you should try to apologize to him as well.” Her tone is mildly stern, but still warm.

Chara’s gaze shifts down to the left, and they kick at the dirt. “Yes, mom.” 

“And Chara.”

They shift their eyes back towards Toriel.

“When a centuries old boss monster says you deserve love, I think you should perhaps give it some thought. You are stuck with us, my child, and we all love you to pieces.” She reaches towards them and gives them a firm hug.

Chara closes their eyes and loses themself in the hug. She smells like smoke and cinnamon.

_You don’t deserve this._

For once, in this moment, they acknowledge the thought, and they let it slide. They hug back so hard it hurts.

  
  



End file.
